


If You Die, So Do I

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-War, Quidditch Injury, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regulus Black will not live without James Potter.  End of story.  Full stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Die, So Do I

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tumblr user who wanted to stay anon: Hurt/Comfort Jegulus where James is injured during a Quidditch game.
> 
> I think this was meant to be Hogwarts era, but I went post war.

There was only one reason for the coach’s owl, and Regulus was at the floo before he could even think about what he was doing. He had a handful of floo powder before he realised he could apparate, and then turned on the spot with a loud crack.

He landed in the middle of the lobby, and scrambled to the stadium’s welcome witch who was answering a few owls of her own. His slender, long fingers splayed on the top of the desk. “Potter, James.”

Of course she knew who he was. Regulus was there in the off-season during training often enough, and she likely recognised the sheer and utter panic on his face. “St Mungo’s. Magical transport.”

He didn’t wait for further information, just turning again. The apparition so close together made him woozy, but he rushed to the Welcome Witch who was busy writing something onto a parchment. “Potter, James,” he gasped at her.

She raised an eyebrow, then flicked her wand at a stack of parchment. One flew out, and she sighed. “Quidditch injuries, sixth floor. Room six-seven-two.”

“Is he…conscious?”

“Healers will give you an updated status. Oh…” She stopped him before handing his visitor badge over. “It says due to the nature of the injury, only immediate family.”

His hand immediately flew to his left hand. “I’m his husband.”

She handed the badge over. “Thank you for visiting St Mungo’s.”

Her voice was so cheerful he wanted to reach across the desk and shake her until the pleasant smile faded. Instead he busied himself with rushing to the lifts, elbowing several small witches in pointed hats out of the way, and jabbing the number six button with a bit too much force.

The lift was moving so slow, he wanted to remove his wand and hex the blasted thing to go faster. But after stopping three times making his jaw clench tighter and tighter, it finally came to a stop with a pleasant voice wishing him to have a nice day.

It was by sheer, practised restraint he kept his calm. He was a Black, after all. No matter how estranged he’d become from his family, or the betrayal. Or any of it. He took a breath, squared his shoulders, the followed the signs toward James’ room.

Stopping by the Healer’s desk, he knocked on the top to get the attention of several who were standing nearby. “Potter, James,” he said again.

One of the healers looked a bit grim. “Ah. Yes. You are…”

“His husband.”

She nodded. “He’s unconscious presently, spelled, until the potions take full effect. He lost a lot of blood, and we’re waiting to see if there’s any brain injury.” When Regulus felt the blood drain from his face, she gave him a sympathetic look. “Bludger to the side of the head.”

“Bloody fucking Quidditch,” he hissed under his breath, and cursed every second he had ever spent playing that ruddy game. And he cursed every second James had ever spent on the pitch because this wasn’t his first injury, but it was by far his worst.

And Regulus knew damn well he could not—would not—live without James Potter in his life.

He crossed the corridor and found the room, and slipped inside. James was there, looking pallid, his normally dark cheeks a strange sort of grey from the blood loss. His eyes were sunken, and if it weren’t for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, Regulus might have actually thought him dead. 

And proceeded to lose his mind.

Instead he walked up to James, pulled a chair in close, and laid his head down on his husband’s arm. That done, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his mirror, tapping it and whispering, “Sirius.”

A moment later, his brother’s grey eyes appeared in the glass, looking far too bright and cheerful. “Oy, Reggie!”

Instead of answering, Regulus held the mirror up to show James’ body, and when he pulled it back down, Sirius looked appropriately stunned and terrified. “They said he has to knit together, then they can see if any serious harm was done to his brain.”

Sirius swallowed thickly six times before he could speak. “And is he…are you…will there be…”

“You can come down. You’re his brother-in-law. It counts.” Regulus scrubbed a hand down his cheek. “Dunno how long he’ll be out.”

“Yeah, alright I…yeah.” Then the mirror went dark.

A moment later, and Regulus first felt the movement before he heard, “Not that long. Stop fussing. Who won the game.”

Regulus felt a shock through him, and his head went dizzy. Shock, he thought for a second before he lifted up and his eyes fixed on James’. They were unfocused, but he had the ghost of a smile on his lips and was attempting to lift one had to reach him.

“Don’t you dare move,” Regulus hissed, his voice coming across far more angry than he meant it to. He let his fingers twist up with James’, and he tugged himself as close as he could get without actually climbing into the bed with him, which was exactly what he wanted to do. “You stupid, stupid fuck. Getting yourself hit by a bludger. What if…you could have…”

“But I didn’t,” James said, then groaned. “Merlin this hurts. But I’m fine.”

“You’re not fucking fine, Potter.”

James blinked at him. “Did I knock myself back to seventh year?”

Regulus’ jaw clenched. “Shut up. Just…shut up.” He felt a sudden urge to cry which, well… Regulus Black did not cry, and he wasn’t about to start now. But Bloody hell the weight in his chest was almost suffocating, and he let his face fall against James’ chest. He let out a shuddering breath when one of James’ hands fell into his short locks and stroked them. For a moment he let himself think, _one wrong move and these hands wouldn’t be able to do that anymore,_ but the thought was so terrifying he pushed it down before the suspiciously wet heat in his eyes could escape.

James chuckled, then shifted. “Get in, you fucking great prat. Seriously, so spoilt and needy. I’m the one with a bashed in head and _you_ need me to hold you.”

“I hate you so much.”

“I can tell,” James said as Regulus finally gave in and climbed onto the bed. James’ arms were the same as they always had been, bigger, warmer, all encompassing as they pulled Regulus tight to him. He felt wrapped up in James, safe, and loved, and wanted. James pressed a kiss to his temple as Regulus buried his face in James’ chest.

“Don’t do this again. Quit your dumb job. I hate it.”

“I’m not quitting!” James, in spite of the pain, sounded indignant and insulted. “Are you bloody mad. Do you realise how close we are to the cup!”

“Sod the fucking cup!” When James gasped, Regulus looked up, his grey eyes dark and furious. “I will not lose you. Do you hear me, James Fleamont Potter? Do you understand that if you do something that fucking stupid I will tear apart all laws of magic to drag your arse back here and that’ll just land me in Azkaban. Do you really want that for us?”

James stared at him, mouth agape, then he laughed—wincing a bit at the pain of it—and he pulled Regulus in for a soft kiss. “Fucking hell I love you so much. You’re not going to lose me, you obnoxious arse. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You have no idea how dead you looked when I got here,” Regulus murmured as he allowed James to draw him back into the cuddle.

There was a long pause before James took a breath and said, “Consider it payback, then, for when your sodding House Elf dropped your unconscious, _actually_ half-dead body on my doorstep with a fucking Horcrux clutched in your fist.”

Regulus swallowed thickly and nuzzled closer. “I thought you were beyond things like petty revenge.”

“Whomever gave you that idea was a filthy liar,” James murmured, burying his nose in Regulus’ hair. “I love revenge, served icy cold.”

“And nearly a decade later?”

James chuckled and pressed several kisses to the hair he was nosing through. “Exactly. Never saw it coming, did you?”

“It’s a good thing you’re a shite legilimense because the curses I’m mentally casting on you right now make the Cruciatus look like a tickling charm,” Regulus groused.

“And I know in your creepy, ancient and noble house of Black language that means I fucking love you, James Potter, and I’m glad you’re alive.”

Regulus’ head lifted, and his grey eyes met James’, intense and full of purpose. “I fucking love you, James Potter. You are my literal everything. I cannot survive without you, so you and I _will_ die together. Do I make myself clear?”

James lifted one hand, cupping Regulus’ cheek gently with his own, then drew him in for a soft, easy kiss. Their lips melded together, soft and pliant, and Regulus took a moment to appreciate the moment. He didn’t love the sterile smell, or the taste of faint potions on James’ tongue, or knowing he wasn’t entirely out of hot water just yet. But he was here. And alive. And kissing him.

“Oh bloody buggering shitting hell,” came an indignant voice from the end of the bed, and the pair broke off with a small smacking sound. “What the hell, Prongs? You were supposed to be on Death’s Door!”

“I was,” James said. “It was all very harrowing. Got saved with True Love’s kiss and all that.”

Sirius planted his fists on his hips and turned to stare at Remus who had a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His gaze cut back to James. “Was this some prank?”

“No,” Regulus said. “It’s only he heard your voice and the sheer irritation woke him from his coma.”

James rolled his eyes. “Potions wore off. And my head hurts but I think I’m alright.”

“That is for the healers to decide,” Regulus scolded, not moving more than a few inches away. “Anyway, you two can bugger off now. Bring some take-away after James is released and then you can fuss over him.”

“I would never fuss over him,” Remus said, shaking his head. “I don’t fuss.”

“It’s true,” Sirius said with a dejected sigh. “Broke my leg last year and he just let me wallow in it.”

“You tried to stand on your bike when it was moving,” Remus said. “You deserved it. And I healed it half an hour later, after I was sure you learnt your lesson.”

Sirius huffed, crossing his arms. “James gets kisses and snuggles and what do I get? Lessons.”

James laughed. “You chose poorly, Padfoot.”

“Oi!” Remus said. “No chocolate pudding for you, then.”

James rolled his eyes and tugged Regulus down, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “I can live with that.”

After a moment, Remus smiled and stepped forward, grasping James by the calf. “We’re really glad you’re alright, Prongs. We were worried.”

James shook his head. “You know me. I can live through a Dark Lord, I can live through a few bludgers. Go on, you two come over when they release me from this sterile prison. I’ll set up the telly and we’ll have movie night.”

Sirius grinned, then drew Remus close to him. “Have fun you two. Don’t traumatise any healers now.”

Regulus lifted a lazy hand to wave them off since he couldn’t really be bothered to lift his face from where it was nuzzling James. When the two sets of footfalls disappeared, he lifted his head and brushed his lips along James’. “I should get out of the bed before the healers come in to scold you.”

“Ah, what do they know. I mean honestly I might have been far worse off if you weren’t here by my side. I’m convinced it was your presence alone that drew me from my near-death.”

“That’s not funny,” Regulus whispered, cupping James’ cheek. His thumb brushed along James’ bottom lip, then he lowered his head to kiss him. “I meant what I said. I cannot live without you.”

James dragged his fingers through Regulus’ hair a few times before pulling him down for a proper kiss, then murmuring against his lips, “I promise you won’t have to.” His hand trailed down, and he touched the band on Regulus’ finger. “Remember, we left out til death do us part for a reason. Because we won’t be. That’s not for us. I took a vow to remain yours forever, and I mean to honour it.”

Regulus dropped into the warm arms and let out a small sigh. “Suppose I have to trust you then.”

James laughed quietly and kissed his head. “That you do.”

Really, Regulus thought to himself as he let himself be in the only embrace he ever wanted, that wasn’t such a hard thing to do.


End file.
